Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“I like the tavern lighting,” Hunter says as he sits down. “Kind of gives it a romantic vibe, doesn’t it, Royal?”
I reach for my glass of soda and my hand knocks up against the salt shaker.
It clatters down onto the table, and salt granules spill out over the lacquered wood surface. At the same time, I inhale a tiny piece of strawberry all wrong, and suddenly I’m in a coughing fit so bad it makes my eyes water.
Hunter just relaxes on the booth seat next to Ollie, watching me like he’s some sadistic voyeur.
“You good, man?” Wes says, pounding my back a couple of times.
I grab the soda, finally regaining my composure as I take a sip. “I’m good.”
“How’s the start of your semester been so far?” Oliver asks Hunter, and I feel like I’m watching a sweet little mouse trying to be friendly to a snake.
“It’s been pretty stimulating,” Hunter tells him. “The classes, I mean.”
The moment I put my glass down, I feel a nudge on my thigh.
And then a stronger pressure, right on my cock.
It’s Hunter’s foot under the table.
I jump slightly and give Hunter a hard glare across the table.
What. The fuck. Are you doing?
I try to telepathically send the message his way. I squirm in place, trying to kick away his leg without making it painfully obvious to Weston beside me.
But there’s no use.
Hunter’s taken off his shoe and is toying with me under the table, using the sole of his foot to massage my dick.
Even after acting all threatening as he left the locker room earlier, telling me to never touch him again.
But maybe it’s just what someone as psycho as him does for some sick pleasure.
For Hunter, everything is a game.
He’s talking to Ollie about classes, acting like nothing is going on, perfectly calm on the surface.
But the way he’s stroking my bulge is impossible to ignore, and my cock responds to the sensation even though I’m trying to summon every ounce of composure I can.
Going to kill you slowly, Knox.
Except for the fact that you’d probably find some way to get off on that, too.
“Have your classes been tough?” Ollie asks.
“They didn’t start out hard. But now they’re getting hard. Harder and harder by the moment, it feels like.”
Hunter’s looking at me as he says it, pushing against my now fully stiff cock.
I can feel my cheeks heating up. They’ve already gone pink, without a doubt, just adding more fuel to the fire.
He’s desperate for a reaction out of me.
He wants me to get up, storm off, and explode.
I’m not going to give him that.
Not a fucking chance.
If Hunter can’t stop himself from touching me, then that’s his problem, not mine.
I start leaning into his touch instead. I buck my hips a little, rocking myself up against him, daring him to keep going.
I’d already told him that he’s going to fucking lose if he tries to play gay chicken with me.
I could go all day.
“How about you, Weston?” Hunter asks his brother. “How have your classes been going?”
“Peachy. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go grab a slice of apple pie.”
Weston already hates being at the table with his brother, and he’s looking for an out.
“Same,” Ollie says. “That smell has been tantalizing me the whole time. Rayne, Hunter, you want us to grab you anything else?”
A gun, maybe?
Or how about a flamethrower?
A guillotine?
“I’m good for now,” I tell them.
Hunter nods. “I’m just peachy, too.”
Wes and Ollie grab their trays and head back over through the crowd.
The moment their backs are turned and they’re walking away, Hunter suddenly lurches into action.
He drops his foot away from me and stands up.
And then he’s looping around the booth, coming over to my side, sliding in and taking Weston’s spot next to me.
I try to slide away a little but the warmth of his palm lands on my thigh, stopping me, settling right below my hard cock.
He leans in and his lips land on my neck. He sucks a slow, wet kiss there, and I curse under my breath.
I shove him back a moment later.
“Get off me,” I tell him. “Your brother is right there.”
Hunter is gazing at my mouth. “And he’s not facing our way, king. You smell like strawberries.”
He moves and squeezes my dick with his hand, now, and the contact is much more direct than the sole of his foot was.
I throb in his hand, unable to control my reaction.
“Did you follow me here, like you followed me to the locker room?”
“How the fuck else am I supposed to make sure you’re not going to die? It’s not like you have any sense of self-preservation. You go to the same places every day.”
“And that’s my life. And none of your business.”
“Feels like my business when you’re this hard for me.”
I glance up and see Wes and Ollie at the end of the buffet bar.